Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learned to stray;
Along the cool sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Yet ev'n these bones from insult to protect
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard--Thomas Gray

Let us go, lassie, go
Tae the braes o' Balquhidder
Whar the blueberries grow
'Mang the bonnie Hielan' heather;
Whar the deer and the rae,
Lichtly bounding thegither,
Sport the lang summer day
on the braes o' Balquhidder.

Robert Tannahill